Nebraska Jones.


This is the girl in the popular  song “Somebody that I used to Know”. I really love that song.. and I really am starting to like Kimbra ( this artist). This is probably one of the most straight forward songs I think I have ever heard. Theres no fluff in the lyrics, shes just saying ” I wanna have a baby with you”. Plain and Simple. I think I like straight forward songs because I am just a simple person. The things I say don’t have double meanings or anything. They are straight forward, and you aren’t going to get anywhere in life if you aren’t. People aren’t going to waste their time and try and guess what you are saying.. people these days are lazy.
Hope you enjoyed this song.. I really like her alot.

sarah.

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Charles Bukowski: Born into This.


I Love this man more than words can describe.

Charles Bukowski is the greatest man ever lived. His writing made me think about men differently. It made me think about everything in my life. It made me think about being a writer, and my future. His writing style is not all “fluff”, its straight forward and to the point.
Charles bukowski’s book Women, is a book that made me understand the minds of men.How men who think of sex, and love differently than women do.
Charles Bukowski’s life is inspiring to me. I hope to become the writer Charles Bukowski was.

He makes me laugh, he makes me cringe, he makes me think, he makes me hope.

Thank you Henry Charles Bukowski. I appreciate it.

I love you, You dirty old man.

I hope he  inspires you, like he inspires me.

Sarah

Changing Faces, Changing Towns.


Tonight I went to this old arcade in Keansburge with my friend Brit and her sister. We had alot of fun, but the whole environment got me really inspired.

I met this old man tonight, he was nameless to me but I knew he had a name. He was bald and watched the little kids and their families play skee ball and other games in the arcade. One would say this is extremely creepy, but as a creeper myself, I found this extremely beautiful. Because of my bad luck and the many broken games in the arcade, I had to ask Nameless man for help. He kept giving us free games. It was nice of him, you don’t get free shit anymore.

Keansburge is known to be a bad area, but even though I felt a little scared, I didn’t think anyone or anything was out to hurt me. I am more afraid in my town, than there. In my town…. well atleast in my neighborhood, there’s so many dirt bags on  my street that I didn’t think it was possible to have all of them on one street. It’s either who’s getting busted for drugs, or whose riding their bike because they have gotten so many DWI’s that they will never get their license again. Everyone is out to hurt eachother in my neighborhood. On my street, no one likes my family because we have to biggest house on the block. It’s all about who can rise to the surface and who’s going to drown in the river of shit.

As much as people say I live in a white trash neighborhood, my family and I proved to the reason of the neighborhood that we were not going to take sure and we were not going to turn into them. I have lived in my house for 14 years. I have seen drug addicts, drug dealers leave and never come back. I’ve seen sweet little old ladies die of old age and heartbreak. I’ve seen more hatred than I have ever seen.

From the strength of my family, we managed to not get sucked into a world where  people are out breaking the law and trying to hurt themselves and other people. My neghborood isn’t white trash, the people in it need to just grow the hell up.

Looking at my neighborhood tonight as made me see how in every town, there is always a thin layer of shit that people need to get past that, and only the strong survive.

Have a Good Weekend

Sarah

A Beautiful Thinker.


I see you

but you don’t see me

your concentrating

with your fake smile

as you pretend to care

you are so serious

but I see you

your soft eyes

as they look

casually

at the clock

that’s ticking loudly

on the wall

you want to leave this place

you stop at the window

hoping

wishing

dreaming

of what the rest of the night

will bring

perhaps with me

who knows

but know something

you are beautiful

when you think.

I wasn’t stalking I promise…. 

Nature is Beautiful


Nature is Beautiful

The last few  days have been beautiful. Internally and Externally. I seriously love life.

This was taken about 10 minuetes from where I live.I am beginning to see the beauty nature has. I have never noticed it before.
My world is beautiful. I seriously have never felt so great in my entire life. I don’t ever want this feeling to go away

Summer will be here before we know it. I can’t wait for it.

xo Sarah

Women By Charles Bukowski.


I was reading this book titled  Women by Charles Bukowski today while sitting in the Applebees parking lot. I don’t usually read in parking lots (I’m not that weird) but I was waiting for my friend to get his tip share and it was taking FOREVER so why not?

When I read the first page I instantly got pulled into the book. I read quicker  then I usually do so I could read alot before he came back. As I continued to read, I became automatically attached to the main character of the book Henry. Like me, He was also a writer. He used to  stay up half the night every night to write. He was writing a novel. It took 21 nights to finish it. His goal was to write 10 pages a night. He would never know how many pages he wrote till the next morning. He would fall asleep at his computer everynight. As alcoholism began to take over him, he continued to write.

When reading this book, I began to understand why my friend was reading this. When it comes to women, the main character and my friend are the same person. They are both very straightforward. When they want to have sex with you, they will flat out tell you. With them, they weren’t going to run around it. I wish more people were like this. I hate playing the game. I hate the signs. If you want me to know something, then tell me. Flirting is like this. I hate flirting. The art of Flirting is stupid.

I wrote a poem about Flirting. It Explains why I hate it.

Flirting

I don’t understand the art of flirting
Trying to entice the other to talk
Making them smile at every witty comment you make
Just so you can sleep with them. 
Is that how it is? 
Or am I just living  in this awkward world
Where words and tones turn people on
And make them sound intriguing. 
Flirting is something I will never understand
But in this strange world we live in
Its normal

The book Women is a book I NEED to buy and continue to read. I feel like I have left Henry in the back of his car. I want to hear about his life. I hope my books someday do this to people. The way the text is written is so straightforward its unbelievable,and there are no hidden meanings between the lines. I love that about this book. I feel like book is going to change me in some sort of way. It’s going to help me understand men more.

He has also written Ham on Rye and Post Office, which I have been also recommend to read. I kinda can’t wait to read Charles Bukowski’s books. His way of writing is something I have never seen before. It’s exciting to find a great author when you are a writer. I wish I could meet this man, but he unfortunatly died a year after I was born. I would tell him that his books have done something that no other book as ever done to me.It educated me just from the first page.

I can’t wait to read.

Sarah xo

Growing Seeds


I wrote this at a Panel during AWP. I added on as the trip went on. By the end of the trip, it seemed finished to me. I don’t usually write poetry like this… or poetry at all.

How inspired I am.

Bubbling with ideas and Research

From Esmeralda Santiago to Lucy Christopher,

Taylor Mali, Ravi Shankard and Brian Turner.

I wonder what they think?

How inspired they were

When they look at us?

I wonder if they see it,

The seed beginning to grow.

Seeds make dreams,

Goals, hopes.

Thoughts penetrate into my empty mind

Like a heroine needle

Getting me  high off inspiration.

Do they know what they are doing?

Turning us into literary drug addicts.

Feeding us more drugs.

Pamphlets,magazines,panels.

Do they realize what they are doing?

Forming us like play dough

Till it becomes hard.

Are you a poet?

Well, that’s a loaded question.

How can one be a poet?

Roses are Red,Violets are Blue…

Was that author a poet?

Everyone is

Yet no one is at all.

But looking at these ordinary people,

I realized they were all me.

An amateur.

A hipster of the 21st Century .

With twisted mustaches

And fashionable scarves

They built unrealistic dreams

In their empty, uneducated minds.

Hoping one day, they could make it a reality

But you see,

The difference between them and me,

Is that they already worked hard .

They delt with Bipolar teachers,

That made them seem like they were cremated alive.

They felt isolated in a world,

Where their craft wasn’t possible

In a realistic person’s eyes.

They wrote in yuppie coffee shops

As they scribbled down things,

They thought others would want to hear.

They stood tall.

As they made a border of rejection letters,

Around their bathroom mirrors.

They climbed the ladder of difficulty,

As they struggled with acceptance

For they had the confidence

To become the next slam poet

Or Memoirist.

They now have given us

The drive, the power,

To do what in our heart

We know we are destined to do

Write.